Flock

CLAD IN MY NEW FAVORITE sundress, I sit on the counter in the kitchen, my carefully prepared barbecue ice cold as I turn the page of my latest novel. Hours after our pla

“Explain yourself, Roberts,” I mutter between bites, glancing over the top of the book, my feet swinging beneath me.

He eyes the cover. 1984.

“I love that you’re reading that, instead of your usual.”

I flip the page and try to take one from Dominic’s playbook, my voice considerably cooler when I reply. “Don’t knock romance books. From the last one I read, I learned how to play a solitary card game, snagged the barbecue recipe I cooked today, and discovered how to bring myself to a proper orgasm, which means I can do all three without you. This makes me fully capable of entertaining myself. Coming here, in this dress, and cooking for you was a decision, and like all decisions, it was optional.”

His growing smile is infuriating.

“You look beautiful.”

I bite into another piece of watermelon, setting the book down and raise my hostile gaze to him as he saunters toward me, looking delicious in a white tee and dark denim. Cedar and sunshine encase me where I sit as he leans in for a bite. I jerk the fruit out of reach. “Get your own.”

“I want yours.”

“Tough shit. Mine was ready six hours ago.”

He sighs, clear fatigue in his posture. “All I want right now is a bite of that watermelon and to get inside my woman as soon as possible.”

“Not happening.”

Frowning, he eases back before turning and fishing a beer out of the fridge. “I got tied up. And you know I didn’t have my phone.”

“Which is bullshit.”

He shakes his head. “No, what’s bullshit is that you think Big Brother is just the name of a TV show.”

“Are you really doing this right now? You’re going to twist this to lecture me?”

His eyes flare with warning as I widen mine. “Big Brother is watching, I know, Sean. I know.” I roll my eyes. “You’re so paranoid.”

He takes a long sip of beer and shakes his head ironically. “No, I’m cautious,” he declares softly. “And being arrogant will only get us caught.”

“You don’t think you’re being a little ridiculous?” I eye the book and lift it. “You don’t think this is a little farfetched?”

“It’s fiction, so sure, it’s farfetched,” he snaps, full of sarcasm as his jaw sets in a hard line. “No, in-depth or massive brainwashing of that magnitude could ever come to fruition in real life, right? Except for, you know, that minor incident we named The Holocaust where millions were executed at the hands of a fucking madman.”

“You know what I mean. This is Triple Falls, Sean, not Nazi-occupied Germany.”

“No, I don’t. And what’s ridiculous is that you need to see to believe.”

“Excuse me if I think the government has more important things to do than tap you.”

He gives me a dead stare. “Everyone is tapped. Everyone. Every single conversation on every fucking device is being recorded by the government, period. And maybe it would be ridiculous if I was Joe Schmo, and my only crime was recording a home porno with my wife’s best friend. Shit no one cares about, except for my wife. But you do know better.” He narrows his eyes. “Ever have a face to face discussion with someone just before seeing an ad for it in your newsfeed?”

I bite my cheek.

“Exactly. That should be all the proof that anyone with something to hide needs to see to think of technology as a threat. No one is safe. Our information is sold regularly for no other reason than our need for consumption. We’re all locusts at this point. But that’s only half of it. Our digital fingerprints include a lot more than what we buy, and what we’re being sold for, they are fucking markers. So, what’s ridiculous, Cecelia, is that you need to see it to believe it.”

“Whatever,” I bound off the counter. “Gotta admit, it’s the perfect excuse though, isn’t it? ‘I’m a secret agent man,’ yadda, yadda. Di

The coolness in his voice stops my retreat. “You’re being awfully fucking flippant about something that means a great deal to me and to Dom. This point, in particular, has been explained to you over and over in painstaking detail. And if you think I’m so fucking crazy, if you refuse so much to believe in what I do, why the hell are you sticking around?”

I swallow at the lividity in his tone. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just…”

“You’re so quick to point out what a goddamned idiot you think I am. Do you know what happens if I’m right?” His voice shakes with anger. “Do you know what happens to caged birds?” I’ve never seen him so pissed, and I don’t congratulate myself for being granted the fight I’ve picked.

Nerves firing off, I twist my hands in front of me. “Sean, I think you’re brilliant, but—”

“I’m not a fucking schizophrenic, Cecelia. These are Dominic’s rules too. You think he’s ridiculous? What about Tyler? Is he ridiculous? Have you turned on the fucking news lately? How much do you need to see to believe?!”

“No, I just—”

“Everything I do has a reason behind it. I’ve explained that over and over and tonight, what I was doing was equally as important as what I did yesterday and the day before that.”

“Sean,” I take a step forward, hating the glare in his eyes, it’s the first time it’s ever been directed at me. He crosses his arms, cutting me off from getting closer.

“It’s just… I spent half a damn day cooking for you. The least you could do was give me a real apology.”

“Oh yeah, this is about the di